


Third Base

by thecat_13145



Series: Bases [3]
Category: Numb3rs
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 21:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecat_13145/pseuds/thecat_13145
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone warned him fugative recovery was an interesting gig</p>
            </blockquote>





	Third Base

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for references to an past abusive relationship, but nothing too specific. 
> 
> A big thank you to cerealkiller0 Who this was written for and betaed it, while working on her own. Big Hug to her

Everyone warned him that Fugitive recovery was an...interesting gig, but they never mentioned this. 

Standing staring in the mirror, Don Eppes tried desperately not to feel self conscious, but it was hard. 

The black leather pants clung to him, emphasising every curve, and making breathing agony. The shirt was white, with ruffles that lined the V neck. Every time he breathed in, the shirt rode up a little. 

There was glitter in his hair and mascara around his eyes. 

He knew he didn’t look bad like this, four women had offered to help him get out of the jeans when the mission was over, but... 

He glanced at himself in the mirror, suddenly nervous. This wasn’t just a mission to catch a scumbag, this was where he’d meet his new partner. 

And he really didn’t need another partner deciding he was easy. 

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/ 

Billy Cooper didn’t do partners. 

He didn’t have time to teach young hot heads the rules of tracking, nor did he have time for the old timers waiting out retirement. Fugitive recovery was a tough business, and the man who travels alone travels fastest and gets his man. 

The record for anyone sticking with him was 3 weeks. He had no reason to think this, he checked the paper again, this Don Eppes would be any different. 

“He’s already in position.” Margret, his liaise officer warned. 

“So how do I know who he is?” 

Margret grinned, having way too much fun with this. “You’ll know. Just look for the glitter.” 

Now he’s he walking into a club, looking for two guys, one of whom the only clue he has is glitter. 

“Hey Studd,” A voice comes from the shadows, “You got the time?” 

He turned around, ready to flash his badge and watch some two bit whore vanish into the night, only to realise something. Namely, this is the first guy, the only guy in the whole place to approach him so...directly. And he’s the only one wearing glitter.   
He looks into korma ringed eyes, trying to picture them with out the mascara, tries to force the body out of shirt and jeans, into the suits of FBI agents pictures and decides, yeah, this could be the guy. 

“For you sweetcheeks,” He said, grinning. “All the time.” 

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/* 

Don Eppes is an enigma wrapped in a riddle. It takes Coop about 20 twenty seconds of talking to the guy, while they wait for the fugitive to show, to figure that out. 

For one thing, he doesn’t fit into the two usual categories of Fugitive Recovery transfers. He’s not a newbie, fresh from the academy, though he is new, and he is not a burn out killing time till retirement. 

He’s got good eyes, and even better instincts, spotting their fugitive before Coop does. He’s smart, both street and book, if Coop is any judge of people. 

He’s a little defensive, a bit quick tempered, but definitely not a hothead. His arguments are based on reason, but in way that even Coop, who normally rejects reason out right, can accept. 

But he’s also completely tense, shying away from any physical contact that’s not part of the mission. Takes down their guy with the minimum amount of contact, but still looks sort of lost. 

Coop tells him to head off and get changed. He’ll handle the paper work. 

Don smiles at him gratefully, and Coop decides that maybe he’ll rethink the partners thing. 

*/*/*/*/*/*/**/*/ 

He knows his father doesn’t like Coop. Blames him for the problems Don was having, but the truth is if he hadn’t run into Coop, Don doubts he’d be alive right now. Definitely he wouldn’t be sane. 

Coop’s a good agent, a great agent. You only have to be in the same room as him for a few seconds to realise that. 

But what you don’t realise is that he’s good with people. He teaches Don how to get a suspect to trust him, how to get them to talk, how to track, how to be a good agent. Teaches him that you don’t have to play by the rules for it to work, you just have to have your own. 

He’s the first person Don can think of who actually makes him feel like he’s a worthwhile human being on his own. 

*/*/*/*/*/*/*//*/ 

Coop knows that someone’s screwed Don up good. 

He shies away from physical contact, and doesn’t seem to trust Coop, especially when he’s telling him he’s done a good job. It’s like he’s waiting for the boot to drop, for Coop to decided that Don Eppes is not a worthwhile human being, which confuses Coop as he wouldn’t have stuck with the kid this long if he wasn’t alright. 

He gets some of his answers as to who when a chase takes them into California and he talks Don into taking him home without being obvious. There’s a lot that’s not being said in that household, more than even in Coop’s own. 

They talk about politics, about an absent younger brother, Charlie, who’s apparently a maths genius and in England at the moment, and about baseball. No one asks about how Don’s doing at the bureau, or talk about one of their cases. 

After he’s gone to bed, he hears a muffled argument. Voices hushed because there’s a guest in the house, but still loud enough to hear. It’s evidently an old argument, about something that they don’t seem able to accept. Their son is an FBI agent, and a dammed good one. 

The next day, he meets Don on the landing, eyes hooded and afraid, and jokes about the Californian air and his mom’s cooking being so good that he passed out right away and didn’t wake till late. He sees the relief in Don’s eyes. 

He knows he was out of line with his attitude towards Alan Eppes, but he wants to scream at the man, someone hurt your son, that’s why he’s this way, I’m trying to help him, so get over your ridiculous outdated prejudices and give a hand. 

Things aren’t helped by his mother trying to hug Don before they leave and him pulling away from her. Alan glares at him, evidently viewing him as responsible for this. 

He’s not surprised the other man hates him. 

*/*/*/*/*/*/ 

His head hurt. His mouth felt like a stunk had crawled in there and died. His stomach was heaving. Opening his eyes felt like bench pressing two 20. 

He moaned, as water was pushed towards his lips. 

“Come on, Eppes, Wakey wakey.” He groaned, seeing Billy bending over him looking far too cheerful for this early in the morning. 

“Fuck off, Coop.” He muttered. 

“Nope.” Coop shook his head. “Here,” A glass of water and two tablets were thrust into it. “Get this down ya.” 

The door crashed shut again. Moaning, Don pulled himself up. His stomach heaved, and he managed to get himself to the bathroom. 

Groaning, he pulled himself up, trying to remember what happened last night, what had he been drinking? 

A picture came to him a flash, a image of Coop’s mouth laughing at some stupid joke in the bar, wanting to take it, to kiss it. 

He groaned again. But there was no getting around it. If Coop hated him, he still had to face him, and at least he’d woken up full clothed. 

The aspirin was kicking in, making things easier. No point putting it off. 

He pulled himself up wards, grabbed a shirt that seemed reasonably clean and steps out to face the morn. 

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/* 

“Coop, about last night,” 

He didn’t’ expect Don to be the one to bring it up. He though the kid would leave it, let it strew a while, but he’s tackling it, taking it on like he thinks Coops going to hit him. Maybe he does. 

“It was just the drink, you know, so can we just...forget it?” 

His chest hurts and he wants to say yeah, or ask what Don is talking about. But he knows, he’s known for a long time, that they have to have this conversation. 

Possibly something of it shows in his face, as Don groans. “Forget it, I’ll take leave, transfer paper’ll be with command on Monday.” 

This is it. 

“Can do that, Eppes, but It’d be a dammed shame.” He held up his hand to stop the protests before they could begin. “I ain’t wired that way, but I’m not such an insecure bastard as to freaked that anyone finds my scrawny butt attractive. You wanna transfer, I’ll do I can to help, but I hope you don’t, cause you’re a dammed good agent and partner and the right guy or girl for that matter is out there for you.” He shrugged.   
“Just sorry it’s not me.” 

The smile Don gives him nearly makes all the effort he’s put into this worthwhile. 

Coop’s never had responsibility for anything bigger than a hamster, and even that escaped. Don’s bigger than a hamster, but Billy is determined not to screw this up. 

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/* 

They’re in Colorado, when their paths cross with Ian Edgerton. Don is actually quite eager to avoid the other man, but Coop is having none of it, and insists they fight for the case. 

Edgerton doesn’t make any comment about Don, but they do a stake out together and Don actually manages to make conversation. 

It’s not great conversation, Edgerton is a silent bastard, but it’s a start. 

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/***/*/ 

Edgerton has a reputation, and not just as a bastard. 

Coop generally makes a point of not believing gossip, but it’s hard in Edgerton’s case as the man does himself no favours. 

He barely glances at Coop, his eyes fixed all the time on Don. It’s almost predatory. Coop’s instincts are aroused, and it seems further confirmed when he comes to check in on Edgerton and Eppes at the stakeout. 

He’s brought Coffee with him, and Don’s eyes had lit up. Edgerton had taken the coffee from him, and-there was no other word for it-started seductively drinking it, playing with the stirrer and licking cream from his lips. Thankfully, Don was completely oblivious to this, but Coop saw it. 

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/ 

He’s not sure why he didn’t expect the fist as he came out of the parking lot, but it still was good enough to send him sprawling. 

“Stay away from him, Edgerton.” 

He pulled himself up, to look into the eyes of William Cooper, who was doing his best to prove everything they said about red heads true. 

“Excuse me.” 

“I know your reputation.” The other man was scowling at him, looking more terrifying than anyone with freckles had a right to. “Just stay away from Don.” 

“Isn’t this a conversation I should be having with him?” 

This time he did see the fist heading for him and ducked. “He’s being hurt. Not letting you do that again.” 

It was the stinging pain of his nose that made him snap “Dam it. I know that. I’m the bastard who got him out!” 

*/*/*/*/* 

Coop had been warned that fugitive recovery was an interesting gig, but he never really believe it until he was sitting at a dinner drinking bad coffee and listening to Ian Edgerton, Sniper god of the FBI, the Bastard son of Yoda and Clint Eastwood, bad bastard exordinary pour out the story of a relationship. 

Or to be more accurate a series of one night stands, but he was still getting over the idea that the sniper had feelings, so he’d take what he could get. 

He sipped his coffee slowly, trying to cover his surprise. A part of him want to tell this guy to fuck off. That Don was damaged enough without having all the junk that a sniper brought with him. 

But another part remind him of the way Don’s eyes lit up every time Edgerton spoke to him, and how nervous he was about meeting the sniper, like a kid getting ready for his first date. 

And he knew the advice he had to give. 

“Take a break.” He said, slowly. “The kid’s damaged, and scared. Give him some space, give him some time. He’s going to make a lot more stupid mistakes in his time,” (Lord only knew Billy had) “but the guy you get at the end of it is going to be worth the wait.” 

He watched cautiously as the other man sipped at his coffee, before nodding slowly. 

“You’re a good guy Coop.” 

He snorted. “Trust me you have no idea.” 

A glance at the clock told him it was nearly 7. Better be heading back to the motel, coming up with a story for Don about a night with a hot blonde chick called Tina, (what? that was what her name tag said when she served them), and pushing down the protective feeling he had for his partner even deeper. 

“You let me know if Fox gets out of line alright?” He said, dumping a couple of twenties on the table. “Like to be in on that.” 

At Edgerton’s nod, he leant closer. “And a word to the wise, Edgerton. Next time,  
actually make time for talking before you fuck Him!”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fumbled Catch](https://archiveofourown.org/works/508001) by [thecat_13145](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecat_13145/pseuds/thecat_13145)




End file.
